For Granted
by mon-petit-pois
Summary: Ziva reacts to Leona Phelps' comment on "One Last Score." this is the scene that played out in my head as soon as I heard Phelps say it, so it's not really what happened. Just an idea, as usual, tied to Somalia.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: my mind moves really fast, so when I heard Leona Phelps make her comment about freedom, here is the story that instantaneously unfolded in my head. No, it's not actually what happened, but rather what I would have liked to see (yes, another one of my Somalia stories:D). And it's like 0130 so I'm half asleep, so sorry if this makes no sense. I sort of just winged it.

"You have obviously never had your freedom taken away from you, Agent David," Leona Phelps stated.

Ziva stopped in her tracks, and looked at Phelps incredulously. She really wished that her assumption was correct. But alas, it was not.

What she wouldn't have given to have imagined those 3 months.

She was well over it by now. The minor PTSD had worn off very quickly. However, this comment made her really think. Never had her freedom taken away from her? Phelps couldn't be more off.

"And what makes you assume that?" she challenged. Gibbs was now eyeing her warily, ready to change the subject if need be. He placed a light hand on her back.

"If you had you would know why I wanted to get out of that drab hellhole." Phelps stated as she turned around to face Ziva. Ziva couldn't believe that she had just said that.

"A hellhole? A HELLHOLE? A government prison? At least it had actual beds and air-conditioning and water and food and washing machines. Hell, there was even a volley ball court! And you are calling THAT a hellhole?" she scoffed. She considered adding 'and guards that don't beat the crap out of you,' but she didn't want to appear weak.

'Too late' she thought to herself. She didn't know why, but she was suddenly VERY pissed at this annoying woman that acted more like a spoiled child. She had no idea how fortunate she had been.

When Ziva had returned from Africa, she has made a promise to herself never to take anything for granted again.

She didn't realize what a beautiful thing clean water was until she had to go 3 months with barely any water at all, let alone clean.

She never thought she would love the cold and rainy days of The Nation's Capital until she spent her entire summer in the baking heat of the desert sun.

Trees are a gift from god.

Whoever invented deodorant deserves a medal.

Abby's hugs, and any physical contact that didn't involve pain, was a beautiful thing.

Kind words and love.

The comfort of her bed.

Food.

All of these things, and many more, Ziva vowed to never, ever, take for granted ever again.

"Like you have actually had to go without all those things," Phelps scoffed. Ziva could feel the anger at Phelps building up inside of her.

"Oh, you don't believe me?" she mocked in disbelief. Gibbs was startled when she pulled her shirt up a little to unveil the horrible scars on her stomach, "Do you think those got there by accident?" Ziva shrieked. She was loosing it.

She needed to get a grip.

At first, Phelps just stared at the scars, trying to comprehend what she was seeing. Her reply made Gibbs begin to think she had a death wish.

"At least you did not have to wear that god-awful orange jumpsuit," she said indignantly, as if the neon-colored prison garb was the crime of the century.

"At least you had _CLOTHES_!" she shouted.

Ziva couldn't stand it anymore. She walked swiftly out the door, and approached to car, slamming her fist into the hood. Where her hand had collided, it left a dent on the hood. Her knuckles were bleeding.

This just left a very confused Leona Phelps and a very pissed-off Agent Gibbs standing in a grand and empty foyer.

A/N: should there be a part deux? Just to sort of wrap it up?

Please please please tell me what you think!

(And if u r reading this, luzma, it would be nice if you could comment in English. Je parle français, pas español:( I was fine with it at first, And sometimes I don't need the translator, but I am afraid I am getting of wrong! But i thank you for your reviews:D) that goes to everybody who has ever reviewed one of my stories, as well:D


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: well the readers have spoken, and they all seem to want a "part deux" so voila! The conclusion to my originally-one-shot story, For Granted:)

Disclaimer: I keep forgetting to post one. Not even sure I even need one but I'm just following suit. I STILL don't own it. Bernie, you are taking forever! You told me "It" would be done by now! Your motto is "We do 'not-necessarily-legal fastest!" not "We take forever to you what you "ordered". If NCIS isn't mine by next Monday, u r fired, and I'm not paying!

Jk, jk.

...

Gibbs was beyond angry.

"What the HELL were you thinking? You are very lucky she didn't kill you!" he snarled, giving her an amped-up version of the Gibbs stare, "She was almost over it..." he said as he turned to run after Ziva, who was sprinting down the driveway.

Leona was confused.

"What did I do Agent Gibbs? What was she almost over?" she called after him, in her best innocent voice.

Gibbs just ignored her, fearful that if he turned around he would give her what she deserved. But he couldn't. Ziva needed him.

He would bother with the spoiled princess later.

So he ran off after her.

Ziva PoV

She was running in a flat out sprint, her high-heeled shoes in her hands. She needed to get away from here. She needed to feel free.

The feeling of the wind on her face was just the thing to do that.

As long as she was gaining ground, able to control where she went and how fast she ran, she felt free.

This was the real reason behind her morning runs. After being in a dark room all night, her runs at the break of dawn help her feel free again. The beauty of the sunrise still amazed her. It was a symbol that they were starting over, and that there was still some certainty left in this unpredictable world.

Another thing she would relish and never take for granted ever again, for as long as she lived.

Now the sun was high overhead, and Ziva was becoming hot.

She continued to run.

She must have nearly run a mile and was approaching a park when she heard the crunching of the leaves behind her. Rather than turn and attack, she sat down on a nearby park bench, and put her head in her hands. Ziva knew it was Gibbs behind her.

He sat down next to her, and lightly removed her hands from her face. She looked up at him, sadness in her eyes.

Ziva could not stand to feel weak, and looking up at him, she felt nothing but. She had exploded and lost her temper at the smallest thing, and that wasn't the worst part.

She had run away. That alone made her weak.

They said nothing. Their eyes were locked, his hands holding hers.

Gibbs eyes were full of worry, compassion, and understanding.

And she was surprised to find understanding there.

He understood her. He was probably one of the very few people in the world who knew how her mind worked. He knew her just as well as she knew herself.

If not better.

Ziva could not stand it anymore. She felt as if by looking into her eyes, he could see into her soul. That was how the expression went wasn't it? "the eyes are the window to the soul," she thought (she was quite proud that she remembered that one). She felt exposed, and didn't know how to draw the curtains closed again.

She looked away.

And just like that, the curtains closed.

When he took his right hand away, Ziva was afraid he was mad at her. But then he wrapped his liberated arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She laid her head down on his shoulder, and immediately felt safe.

Like a daughter in her father's arms.

They continued to sit in silence, but it wasn't an awkward silence. It was comfortable, silent understanding passing between the both of them. They seemed to have their own secret language.

And Ziva realized how lucky she was. She had a father, Gibbs.

A sister, Abby.

A brother, Tim.

A grandfather, Ducky.

A... Cousin? Palmer.

And she had Tony, though she had no clue where he fit in anymore.

Somalia was just one of many hurtles in her life. She was not weaker because of her ordeal.

She had survived in one piece. That alone made her strong.

And she was better because of it.

Only Gibbs could soothe her without even saying a word.

No, she was not healed. Time heals all wounds. She needed just a little more time. And she has all the time in the world.

Ziva looked up at Gibbs and smiled, a thank you in her eyes.

Gibbs gave her his infamous half smile, and kissed the top of her head, which she took to mean 'you're welcome.'

Then they heard screaming, and saw Leona Phelps come running out of the woods, followed by a man with a knife. Gibbs took off after the man, Ziva got Phelps.

"Stay with her, Ziver," he called as he chased the perp.

They were back to normal. Or whatever normal ever was.

Ziva smiled wider as she pushed Leona into the car.

FIN

A/N: thanks to all who reviewed! I hope it lived up to your standards, and I tried to make it less OOC than last chapter.

And to all of my TaHH readers and WJY readers, sorry for the long delay. Writers block is terrible. I know what I want to write though, just don't know how to say it! Bear with me!

And a random thing, I now have bieber fever. It is an epidemic I swear. I just went to go see his movie and swore I would not be "converted." Well I failed miserably. And now I like Justin Bieber.

I can't believe it either. (:O belieber!)

Please review!


End file.
